Almost Normal
by TARDIS-elf
Summary: Clint crosses the line and stumbles upon Natasha's secret. Oneshot


"Natasha? Are you there?" Clint wandered around the bunkers at the SHIELD headquarters. He would generally be at the shooting range by now. But he and Nat always went together and it didn't feel right when she didn't show up.

Now he was looking for her. Was he too clingy? Hopefully she didn't think that. But why would he care if she did?

He found her room and knocked on the door. "Nat?" No response.

Weird. Every time he had been outside this door, she had been inside yelling at him. He could almost hear her holler "Don't you dare come in, Agent Barton!" She had called him 'Agent Barton' when she was mad since they decided to go by a first-name basis.

He hadn't even looked inside that room before. What did she have in there that was so secret that even he couldn't be trusted with it? They were pretty close after all.

His curiosity took over his limbs and he found his hand on the doorknob. No, no, no. He couldn't just walk in her room. This was her space. And what if she came back and caught him? He imagined he would have a bullet in his thick head before he could say "oops."  
>His conscience kept saying "no," but his hand kept saying "yes." He slowly twisted the knob and looked around before walking inside.<p>

The first thing he noticed was that Natasha had a fondness for paper. It was everywhere. Taped on the walls, wadded up in the waste-basket, laid in no specific order on the bed. It looked as though she had at one time tried to keep them on a cork-board above her bed, but then it threw up. There were binders on the ground by the bed which Clint had the gall to look inside. Nothing but mission details. Some dating back to five years ago. It was like Natasha to keep those. "Never know when you may need them," she would say.

Everywhere else, however there were sketches. It honestly confused Clint. Natasha had never seemed to be the artsy type. Not even in the years and years they'd known each other.

So, Natasha Romanoff, the girl who he had seen destroy alien soldiers like a madwoman, liked to sketch. No wonder she was bent on keeping him out. She probably thought he would see this as a weak-minded pass-time. Well, if that had been her mentality, she was wrong. But he did think it was cute.

She was really talented, too. Extremely talented. Her work was better than anything he could ever dream of doing. (Of course, his artistic ability was pretty much limited to stick figures.)

He scanned the walls. There was a wide variety of subjects. That one was unmistakably Lady Liberty. That one was unmistakably Loki (why she'd want to draw him, he had no idea. But there he was.) That one was unmistakably Central Park (his favorite, so far.) That one was unmistakably Budapest. That one was unmistakably him. Wait, what?

"Agent Clint Barton, what are you doing in my room?!" Her voice made him jump and sent chills down his spine.

Great, he had been caught. His conscience said "I told you so," and his hand said "LOL, Noob."

"Natasha, don't do that!" he scolded.

Her mouth hung open and her eyebrows were furrowed. All he could think was "She's pretty when she's upset," which of course made him stare like an idiot.

Her eyes drifted down to his hand, in which was clenched the portrait of him. She shut her mouth and her cheeks turned as red as her hair.

She snatched the paper away and hit him with her pillow. "I've told you to stay out of here. This is none of your business!"

"I know. I'm sorry, okay? My curiosity got the better of me."

She rolled her eyes and slumped on her bed, staring at her pictures.

"You must think I'm a stupid girly girl now."

Clint shook his head. "No. It's a hobby. I don't think any less of you because you like to draw things."

There was a long silence.

"Are they any good?" Natasha finally asked.

"Oh, yeah, they're fantastic. You're the next Glen Keane."

She turned to look at him. "Glen Keane?"  
>Now, it was his turn to be embarrassed. "Uh, y'know, he's a guy… who draws stuff."<p>

She stared at him knowingly.

"He's an animator… for Disney. "

"Disney?"

"Yeah, Disney."

She crossed her arms. "You know this because…"

"Because maybe I liked Disney stuff when I was a kid. Don't laugh."

"I'm not laughing." She wasn't laughing, but Clint could tell she was trying hard not to.

They stayed that way for a while until "_Agent Clint Barton, to Director Fury's office please."_

"Guess you should be going."

Clint hesitated. "Natasha, the reason I really like these isn't because they're amazing, which they are, but I guess it's because knowing that you do this, I don't know. I guess it made me feel human almost. Like we were normal."

"Where would we be if we were normal?"

"I guess we'll never know, but I can only hope I would've still met you."

Then he kissed the top of her head and walked out.


End file.
